Summer rain
by HaneGaNai
Summary: He smelled like rain and it was fresh and overpowering and altogether unsoiled. It felt as if with each drop soaking into his clothes, his hair, streaming down his face he was purified and born anew. /collection of RenIchi drabbles/
1. 1: Summer Rain

**Title**: Summer rain

**Pairing**: RenIchi

**Genre**: Romance/General

**Rating** : K

**Words**: 402

**Warning**: fluff; poetic; and so much in so little words,

**A/N**: Made from leftover notes from _Me and my shinigami boyfriend_ (that never came to life, became something else)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters.

--

He smelled like rain and it was fresh and overpowering and altogether unsoiled. It felt as if with each drop soaking into his clothes, his hair, streaming down his face he was purified and born anew. Free from impurities, from faults and reasons to blame, from the blood on his hands, from the deaths that marred his life. He was unbound and free to chose a different path, a different life and it all felt right if even just for a second.

He wouldn't change who he was even if given a chance. The past yeah, he'd do pretty much anything to fix a few things. But the way it was now, in the rain, with the morning sun peeking from behind the clouds, with another soul saved from the clutches of another slain Hollow. With that fresh smell embroidering into his skin, into him. It was good. It felt nice.

And it would get better.

By now his orange spikes were heavy with water and clung to his forehead. He brushed them back with his hands as he rose his head and with his eyes closed let himself be embraced by the warmth of summer, by the freshness of life seeping through.

The raindrops were delicate and fell lightly on his skin. It was soothing, it was joyful. It was warm. It was like a caress, like a brief kiss, lots of brief kisses planted all over him, kisses on his soul. Exquisite.

It was like the arms wrapping around his shoulders, like the heat radiating from the body behind him. Like the red strands tickling his neck as _he_ leaned in and inhaled his scent, the scent of rain _he_ loved so much. The reason he stood there motionlessly, barefoot and wearing only a T-shirt and shorts that his sleep-gear consisted of, unmindful of the cold from the concrete.

And then it came, the words he risked a cold for. The words that were the sweetest what he ever heard his lover say and yet they were not sweet. They were more than that. They meant all the happy memories the redhead had from the outskirts of Rukonagi. The bright sunrises in Inuzuri admired from that hill, while the mild rain washed the dirt, the sweat and tears, cleaned the scratches and wounds and brought warmth and smile and hope.

"You smell like rain."

He couldn't wish for more.


	2. 2: Longing

**Title**: Longing (any ideas for a better one?)  
**Pairing**: RenIchi  
**Genre**: Romance  
**Rating**: M  
**Words**: 417  
**Warning**: mentions of sex;  
**A/N**: It was supposed to be longer, but I'm not good enough. The piece just beat me to a pulp and left gasping for more words and I simply gave up. I was wondering 'bout making a series of RenIchi drabbles, but... I'm not so sure anymore.  
Am debating wheather it's worth posting anywhere. 

The night began with nips and kisses, knowing smirks and lower lip bitten in anticipation. The temperature in the room rose with every touch, with every silent gasp, with every stifled groan. The air practically sizzled around them, their skin covered in a sheen of sweat and glistening under the light of the voyeuristic Moon peeking through the window.

The bed creaked only slightly as they were moving painfully slow weary of the orange head's family sleeping not that far away. It was maddening and yet so agonizingly good, the thrill of being caught only adding spice to the act.

They tried their best to stop all the treacherous sounds, but pretty soon it became too difficult and within seconds blankets and pillows and bodies landed in a heap on the floor and it began anew. This time faster and harder and _oh so fucking_ _better_ as they didn't have to worry about the creaking bed.

Moans were lost in moans as they kept kissing and devouring sounds the other made and their lips were so swollen it hurt. They needed more. Another kiss, another touch, another fix.

Strands of red hair were pulled to get them closer and closer still, but it would never be close enough. No matter how tight the embrace was, how deep it was, even though there was no air to breathe with left there would always be a gap that made something in them roar, that made them tighten their hold.

Hands were moving feverishly touching, mapping out as much as they could, fingers raking skin and leaving red tracks in their wake, leaving proof of a night that scorched them to the core. They were lost in each other and it burned so good, the flame hotter than a thousand Suns.

A little more and with a muffled scream a supernova exploded and then another and it was all a blinding mess of tangled limbs, mingled breaths and a deep, long kiss that would still be too short.

But even if they were breathless and spent the craving wouldn't go away for long and soon they would once again begin their dance and keep going as long as they could. Till the Moon would give place to the Sun and bask them in the morning rays. Till they ached all over and could barely move.

Till it was time to go back with one last kiss, each to a world of his own until the Moon would come back again. 

–

_Reviews are love and inspire me to write more._


	3. 3: Goodbyes

**Title**: Goodbyes

**Pairing**: Renji/Ichigo

**Warnings**: Spoilers for the manga, implied boylove;

**Genre**: Romance/Drama

**Rating**: K

**Words**: 443

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach or any of the characters. Kubo does.

**Summary**: Saying goodbye was never their thing.

There was a long, deep stare and vanishing hearts. A muffled shriek struggling to leave their lips and treacherous limbs that screamed with the need to tangle and entwine. To meet again and again dreading the last time. But there was no more time left and they both knew. Renji's silhouette became blurry at first and even the vivid red lost its vitality shade by shade. The process was slow proceeding with the speed neither could stand. Yet they were thankful for the leisure and the seconds they gained.

They stood motionless looking at each other with smiles that spoke thousands of words without spilling a single syllable. It wasn't like them; the silent resignation. Giving up without a fight, without putting their lives on the line. Without leaving a pool of their own blood behind. And still, it was just like them being stubborn and leaving the most important words left unsaid and hanging in the air between them. In the air that the redhead was becoming a part of.

His legs were already gone and he resembled a typical ghost. That is if you could call ghosts typical. Ichigo watched him disappear with a shrinking heart wondering for the briefest of moments if he'd do it again. If he'd give up his powers in order to defeat Aizen once more had he known how severe saying goodbye would be. It didn't cross his mind at that time that losing his powers would mean parting with his friends, with him.

It didn't matter back then. It couldn't matter because he was risking for them. And yes. He'd do it once more and many times again was it necessary. They both knew he would.

There would be no regret, he told himself even though he knew that it was a blatant lie. That was simply the way he is.

Renji was floating in the air in front of him, or it simply looked like it. It was a grotesque sight - the lower half of his body was completely gone. Even those big hands balled into fists just a moment ago were nowhere to be seen.

It was time. He would be gone soon and they wouldn't see each other again in this lifetime. In his lifetime.

"See ya." The redhead said and Ichigo laughed. He couldn't help it. It was such a sad excuse of a joke and so much more. It was a promise.

"See you." He whispered into the morning air when he couldn't see him anymore, when the fiery red was finally gone.

See you. In forty or fifty years when my soul follows yours into the other world.


	4. 4: Despondent

**Title**: Despondent

**Pairing**: Renji/Ichigo

**Genre**: Drama/Romance

**Warnings**: spoilers for the manga, hopeless drama, boylove;

**Rating**: K+

**Words**: ~700

**Prequel to **_**Goodbyes**_

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Bleach or any of the characters.

**Summary**: _He hoped he'd never learn the desperate feelings that were overcoming him now. It felt too much like death._

**AN**: From the start there was supposed to be only this, _Goodbyes_ was an accident at work.

When he woke up that day after long hours of sleep he was surprised that his world hasn't yet collapsed. He wondered why his powers still clung to him, though maybe it was his subconsciousness holding desperately onto his powers, on the last threads of his reiatsu so that he could bid his farewells.

He listened to his worried friends replying and calming the fussing Orihime down when necessary, but his eyes roamed over their faces searching for the one person that he needed to see the most while he still could.

So he escaped when they weren't paying attention, slipping out of their motherly care, and with the lasts of his abilities he sought and found the spirit pressure that tasted so much of mixture grief.

He could see so many emotions in those brown orbs regarding him when he appeared before the redhead. The man knew he'd come, hoped he'd still be able to see – Ichigo saw it in his eyes, the little flicker that came into sight as soon as he set foot on the grass.

The big, strong and badmouthed Renji that he knew looked so forlorn sitting there near the river bank. Neither of them liked showing their weaknesses, neither of them ever wanted to. Ichigo could barely stand the sight. It wasn't like him to act like that, but the vulnerability that the man showed him spoke so much of trust.

There were so many things that he wanted to tell him, but the only thing he managed was an apology in a voice that was far too meek to be his.

Renji stood up and only shook his head before he grabbed onto him bruising his lips with a kiss so searing that it ripped Ichigo's soul to shreds. The touch of that mouth should have been familiar by now, yet none of the kisses before scorched him so much. None of them scared with such intensity. It tasted of abandon and remorse, of the feeling they never named. It was a fire like liquid, melting him…

He really wanted to melt with the kiss so that he could have even the slightest chance to become a part of him. So that Renji could take him with him. So that they wouldn't have to part.

He hoped he'd never learn the desperate feelings that were overcoming him now. It felt too much like death. It tasted of ash and he feared he'd turn into dust under his gaze as Renji broke away. So he surged back in unwilling to let the man get a taste of air. His touch was insistent and he pulled on those long, vivid-colored strands as if everything depended on it, pulling Renji as close as humanly possible.

He wasn't alone in his need for nearness. Renji's hold on his face was crushing but welcome. Ichigo needed all the sensations he could get while with him; he wanted to engrave them all in his skin, in his mind and soul. He wanted to always be able to recall the way his calloused hands skimmed over his flesh, the way his eyes burned tracks over his form setting him ablaze.

He wanted to remember the texture of his lips, the marks his teeth would imprint and – most importantly – the taste. A savage rich mouthful with a wicked taint of blood. Renji tasted of life so much that he made him feel dead sometimes when they weren't kissing, when his mouth was an inch too far away. His taste was lucid, it was grave. Like the sweetest sin. It was everything he needed, all he ever craved.

Ichigo realized that this was possibly the last time, the last taste. Something inside of him shattered so severely that the tinge of blood in the kiss overpowered everything. It left them both despondent as they parted.

It was almost time. He could feel it; the dark weight in the pit of his stomach, the emptiness spreading with the blood running in his veins. Desperately he held onto the last tidbits of his reiatsu to prolong the moment together even if just by a second.

Even if he knew it was futile.


End file.
